Page 41 of As You Walk On

Ironically, as kids, I used to lose all the time to Aleah.

She was so ruthlessly focused. Blank face, lips puckered, breathing easy like her eyes weren’t watering. I couldn’t compete.

Now here we are, just like then, staring at each other with wide eyes. I swear she hasn’t blinked once. Not at all.

She hasn’t moved from the doorway either.

I’m standing by the bed, pretending that noise in my chest isn’t as loud as the music coming from downstairs.

“Aleah,” says Luca as I finally blink. How does shedothat?

When her head whips in Luca’s direction, he asks, “You okay?”

She sniffs hard, dragging knuckles across her cheeks. “ ’m fine,” she says to the floor. “Just need the bathroom.”

“Are you su—”

“Could you not?” she snaps, cutting Luca off. “I’m not really in the mood for Twenty Questions.”

Luca throws up both hands like a shield. Wise move to surrender. It shifts her mood slightly. An inch of anger gives way to... sad frustration, I think. Like she’s fighting too many wars at once. I know that feeling, but even approaching the idea of speaking to Aleah Bird intimidates me on a good day. To do so while she’s crying, ready to unleash her dragons on anyone who looks at her funny? It’s a death sentence.

She sighs, then hiccups. “I just need a minute.”

No one speaks as she crosses the room. The bathroom door clicks softly shut. A long, exaggerated exhale finally leaves my lungs. This is my cue to exit. I need to go. Tonight’s been weird enough.

When I pocket my phone, my playlist is replaced by whimpers behind the bathroom door. The occasional broken sob muffled by either a hand or a towel. A chorus of pain I can’t get out of my head.

River speaks first. “Should we check on her?”

“I don’t think she wants us to,” says Luca, twisting his thumb ring. “She had some real ‘bother me and I’ll end you’ vibes.”

Exactly, I want to say. As a unit, we should back out of the room very slowly. But my feet are stuck. The soundtrack in my head is Aleah’s stifled, broken voice.

That’s the last noise I heard the day I told her I’d moved on from our friendship.

It was two weeks after Dad’s breakup with Mario. After he moved to Texas. Without him around to bring her over, we hadn’t seen each other since then.

Dad and I were at the supermarket. In the frozen foods aisle is where we saw her. All I remember was Dad’s wounded, lost expression while staring at Aleah. The way he shook at the sound of her laughter. It’s not just that Aleah and Mario share physical traits. They’re both loud and unafraid and love ferociously.

Except, maybe Mario didn’t love Dad enough.

Not enough to stay.

I don’t know the details behind their breakup. Dad never explained. I’ve always been too scared to ask, fearing another meltdown from Dad about it.

But I had sufficient courage to ditch Aleah the next day.

“Didn’t something happen...”

I freeze like I’ve been caught. Like River knows.

They say, “...with the basketball team?” in this low, concerned whisper. It’s nothing like the excited murmurs you hear around school when someone wants details on the latest gossip.

Luca gives River the abridged version of what happened. I don’t bother comparing his version with Darren’s to figure out the truth.

It’s none of my business.

As hard as I fight it, my brain starts to thumb through the history of Theo and Aleah—TJ and Birdie, to be exact—like a reader searching for their favorite part of a book.

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